Sunday, May 25, 2014

Midnight Marauders

Picture not perfect, I admit.Maybe the camera focused on the
window pane instead of on the bird beyond? -- but I couldn’t resist
yesterday when this Mourning Dove posed motionless in front of my desk after scrubbing its
armpits in the bird bath.

And then this morning – nothing but a solitary
robin, looking in vain for what Samuel Pepys called “my morning draught” – tho Sam’s
was usually draft ale, not slow drips into what I must admit was slightly muddy water.

My first thought was, could deer have done
this?Raccoons couldn’t, could
they?And then when I saw the woodpile
tumbled, the reluctant conclusion that it was simply Bad Boys.There are some, on the street behind us,
justifiably angry about the damage a young visitor of mine did to Their Fort last
year.

Hardly justifies calling the cops – and these days
the security system protects against the intruder who used to enter after midnight and do nothing but empty our wallets and leave --
(the cops once set up a camera and caught him in our laundry room – but that’s
all they ever caught.)

So I went out front and hijacked a strange man to
come around back and help me lift the thing up into place.And I guess from now on I’ll leave the backyard light on
at night – for what that’s worth.

1 comment:

I'd say don't be too hasty in blaming the Bad Boys; I've had some pretty destructive Bambis in my yard. Of course, though, you have a better sense of what's going on with the young humans in your neighborhood than any non-resident can.

And if trouble persists, may I recommend one of the motion-activated sprinklers my husband and I use to keep varmints out of my vegetable gardens? No intruder, two-legged or four-legged, reacts well to intermittent blasts of cold water. Details upon request.

About Me

Okay. For starters, I'm 91 now, but I'm not changing the blog title. This is my 6th year of blogging. This being old is interesting. If I start telling you what it's like, understand, I AM NOT WHINING. it's more along the lines of -- I feel like an anthropologist exploring a new world -- Margaret Mead telling you what life is like on New Guinea. (If you're old, you have heard of her. If you aren't, you're welcome here anyhow.)